Friend or Foe
by Missuaa
Summary: Something stalks the shadows in Vice City. Is it a friend or foe, only Vercetti will find out and what it Sonny Forelli up to?Finished
1. The attack

A figure lurked in the lowly shadows of an ally way. The stench of urine and decomposing waste was dense and sickening. A pair of emerald green eyes gazed out of the darkness, like a cats before it pounces.

The figure shifted impatiently, it was dressed in a skintight black cat suit. The figure's head hidden in a thick balaclava. The figure drew a gun from the holster that hung around its waist.

The figure had been given the appropriate name of "Black Panther" by the authorities.

The Black Panther raised the gun and pointed it at the occasional clueless pedestrian. It lowered its gun and shook its head. The Black Panther's eyes scanned the street ahead, a thin, lifeless smile crossed its hidden lips as a man dressed in a fancy blue lilac suit walked passed. The man was a lawyer known as Ken Rosenberg. He stopped directly in the Black Panther's view as he hunted through his jacket pockets for his mobile phone.

"Hey Tommy" he said cheerfully into his phone. The Black Panther raised the gun and aimed squarely at his head. "Shit!" he muttered, as he looked around terrified, "ok, okay. I'll get back now," he said into the phone as he nodded nervously.

The Black Panther's finger tightened around the trigger. Rosenberg looked down the dark alley, something shinny caught his eye. "Oh god no" he yelped as he saw the end of the handgun pointing directly at his head. Rosenberg whimpered as he broke into run. The Black Panther sighed unhappily at being spotted but fired quickly. The bullet exploded from the gun and hit Rosenberg in the back of the shoulder. He screamed but somehow managed to keep running.

"Freeze!" a stern male voice screamed. A well-built cop stepped into the ally aiming a sawn off shotgun at the Black Panther's head. The Black Panther kicked the cop in the bollocks making him bend double. It then took its chance by turning and running from the disastrous scene.

At the rear end of the ally sat a battered and abandoned police motorbike. The Black Panther hopped on, the engine turned over and roared into life. The panther speed quickly from the scene and merged into the bustling evening traffic.


	2. Revenge

Rosenberg woke up in a hospital bed, the smell of antiseptic stung in his nose. His right shoulder ached like crazy. "Shit" he groaned as he tried to roll over only to find that he couldn't.

"Alright mate" a strong cockney accent rung in his ears. Rosenberg forced his eyes open, "oh god, I'm dead, I'm dead and in hell"

"Hey, hey it me, Kent Paul. You're in hospital mate. Some nut took at shot at ya" Paul said calmly trying to reassure him.

Rosenberg groaned again, he muttered hysterically under his breath. He reluctantly sat up and looked around the sterile room. His head was throbbing; he clutched a handful of his frizzy orange brown hair and closed his eyes.

"Come on me old mate, we gotta get going" Paul called, making Rosenberg's head hurt even more.

"Going? Going where"

"Home, cause that psycho is bound to be back"

Rosenberg moaned, "alright" he said forcing himself to get up. He managed to stand although his legs seemed shaky. He blushed as he realized that he was wearing a surgical green nightshirt.

"Where are my clothes?" Rosenberg asked as he pulled the open slit in the back of his shirt together.

"We don't have time, there's a car waiting outside now" Paul said he stepped towards the door. Rosenberg grumbled and staggered after Kent Paul, his shoulder aching more than ever.

The pair stepped into the corridor. It was almost empty except for the occasional nurse on her rounds.

Kent Paul wolf whistled a passing nurse. She glared at him but continued to walk away.

The pair walked down the hall, their shoes clicking of the cheap tiled floor. They passed the reception without a word. A cold frosty breeze greeted Rosenberg; he shivered and looked around the dark car park. It was almost 3am and there was no sign of the sun rising anytime in the next 2 hours. It was going to be another murky wet day in Vice city.

Paul walked swiftly towards a plain looking estate car. A middle-aged man sat in the driving seat. He sat back not looking at his two passengers approaching. He was dressed in a light blue Hawaiian shirt and plain blue jeans. His black hair was smoothly brushed back and a silver chain hung around his neck. The man said nothing until he heard the two back doors slam shut.

He turned on the engine, a blast of warm air billowed out of the heater. "How are you feeling" the driver inquired coolly. Rosenberg frowned; before he had time to start complaining the driver spoke again. "Look" he said as he turned his attention to a battered police bike entering the car park. "Seems like he came to finish the job" Kent Paul mussed loudly.

"Then lets go, Tommy" Rosenberg said panicking slightly. "Take Rosenberg back to the office" Tommy said coldly to Kent Paul. Tommy got out of the car and pulled a small riffle from under his seat, "I'll catch up with you later" he said as he walked through the car park, keeping out of sight from the mysterious gunman.

Tommy Vercetti raised the gun and rested it on the bonnet of a car. He watched carefully as the figure dressed in nothing but black crept into an ally beside the hospital.

Tommy followed, slowly moving closer every second.

The Black Panther cursed under its breath, it moved along, peering through a few of the misty windows. It cursed again and prepared for a long wait. The Black Panther didn't know when Rosenberg would leave but it would be easier to investigate further in the morning. It sat down on an upturned bin and let out a bored sigh.

The next thing that the Black Panther knew was it was lying on the ground, the side of its face throbbing. "What the hell" the Black Panther muttered as it forced its eyes to focus. It found itself staring into the sinister barrel of a riffle.

Tommy Vercetti looked down at the stunned figure, his hands tightly wrapped around the riffle.

Meanwhile Kent Paul and Rosenberg had just reached his office. Rosenberg toyed with his glasses nervously.

"So, you know which nut case took a pop at ya?" he asked already knowing the answer. Rosenberg paused and thought about the attack. He shook his head, "No, all I remember was a pair of cold green eyes". Paul let out a fake yet amused noise from the back of his throat.

"Really, it sounds like the Black Panther to me"

"No, no, I mean the Black Panther is just an urban legend" Rosenberg stammered in a startled tone. Kent Paul nodded as he finally found a bottle of gin tucked away behind Rosenberg's desk. "Now this is what we need," he said merrily as he pulled the top off and took a swig from the bottle. He offered Rosenberg the brown tinted bottle.

The Black Panther held its breath, planning its next move. The cold and unshaven face of Tommy Vercetti looked down on the assassin. The morning air stung their throats. The Black Panther shifted slightly, only to have the riffle pushed firmly against its forehead. "Don't even think about it, you're in deep shit now" he said his eyes bitter and icy. The Black Panther said nothing, just kept deadly still.

"So what a have you got against Rosenberg?" he said coldly as he pulled the gun back slightly. The panther didn't reply. Tommy moved his hand towards the trigger.

The assassin sighed, "Its a job, surely you know that" Tommy Vercetti scowled he raised the gun slightly and smashed the barrel against the Panther's head. It uttered a quiet cry as it hit the ground.

"Don't play dumb with me. Who wants him dead?" he yelled coldly re-aiming the gun. The Panther blinked, purple blotches floated around in front of its eyes.

Something started to ring. Tommy held the gun in one hand as he pulled a mobile phone from his pocket. "Really, you sure, right" He said into the phone. The panther shifted slightly taking advantage of the distraction. The Black Panther kicked the gun out of its face and managed to leap to its feet, breaking into a painful run.

"SHIT!" he yelled as he ran after the escaping assassin. He raised the gun and shot managing to hit the fleeing legend in the leg. The Panther stumbled but forced itself to keep moving.

The Black Panther swore as the ally ended abruptly at a chain link fence. It hurled itself at the fence and started to climb it quickly.

Tommy was in hot pursuit, he laughed bitterly as he noticed the fence, "No where left to run asshole," he cried out before he grabbed one of the assassin's legs and tugged it, practically dragging it from the fence. The Black Panther managed to land on its feet only to once again come face to face with the riffle.

"Goodnight" Tommy said coldly as he brought the gun around again, smashing it into the left side of the Panther's head.


	3. Unveiling

The Black Panther groaned and fell to the ground, slipping into a painful slumber. Tommy picked up the unconscious assassin and carried its limp body to a car, obviously owned by one of the doctors. He smashed the driver side window and unlocked the car before tossing the lifeless body onto the back seat. He glanced at the Panther's leg to see how bad the wound was. Thankfully the bullet had only grazed the blood-coated skin. He then set to work, quickly rewiring the car until the engine let out a lively growl.

Tommy drove the car carefully out the car park as he made an important call.

"Hey Rosenberg, feel up to unmasking a legend" he said as the car gained speed on the empty roads. He even managed to glance over his shoulder, he knew of more than few people who would pay dearly for such information. He even managed a satisfied smile as he caught sight of the office block in the distance.

When he arrived Kent Paul and Rosenberg where eagerly waiting for his arrival outside. Thankfully Rosenberg had even changed into his usual suit.

Tommy got out the car, his riffle resting on the passenger seat. Despite the cold weather they all seemed pretty excited, even Rosenberg had temporarily forgotten about the pain in his shoulder. Tommy opened the back door and lifted the still stunned body off the seat. The trio rushed up the stairs to Ken Rosenberg's cluttered office. Tommy sat the unconscious Panther down on the floor. He looked around the room and quickly grabbed an unused extension cord, with which he bind their mysterious guest to a heavy oak chair that rested in the corner of the office.

"This is great, absolutely fantastic, we unmask the Black Panther and sell information of its true identity to all the gangs in vice" Rosenberg chimed. He reached over to the body and prepared to pull its mask off when Tommy's firm hand wrapped around his wrist, "Not yet. We wait until he's conscious," he said coldly. Kent Paul sat at the desk, he poured himself a large scotch and gazed at their guest. "Ya know, for an assassin, he seems kinda skinny," he said, slurring slightly.

At this point the Black Panther managed to raise its head and look around the room, it groaned its face hurt from the countless times that it had been hit by the riffle. It took what seemed like an eternity for the Panther to adapt to the bright lights and recognize its situation.

"Wake up" A voice ordered as the Black Panther forced its eyes open again. It cursed bitterly as it found itself looking into the dark emotionless eyes of Tommy Vercetti.

"About time" Rosenberg grumbled as he stood up. The mysterious green eyes glared at him though the balaclava angrily. Kent Paul took another swig of gin, for the first time in his life he kept quiet. The Panther squirmed, trying to loosen the cords that had started to cut into its wrists.

"Now lets see who's behind the mask," he said as he grabbed the balaclava. The Black Panther pulled back nervously, no one had ever seen its real identity and lived. It was no fool; the Panther knew that if people knew who it was then it would be hunted everywhere.

Tommy smirked coldly as he noticed it back away; he yanked the black balaclava pulling it off the figure's face. A badly bruised face glared back at them, its long black locks tied and plaited back. Its lips deadly pale, "So now you know" she said solemnly. Kent Paul whistled, as he staggered from the chair and walked over to the Black Panther to get a better look. He leant closer, the Panther scowled, "Think about it and I'll cut your bollocks off" she said in a threatening manner. Paul backed away slightly, Ken Rosenberg shook his head, "The Black Panther is a woman, no one is going to believe this" he said both excited and slightly disappointed.

"Shut up!" Tommy ordered at his two surprised accomplices without taking his eyes off their guest. He looked at her carefully, "So your the Black Panther. What's your real name?" he asked coldly. The Panther didn't reply. Tommy grabbed her neck and squeezed it, the Panther spluttered slightly, "Kathy, Kathy Saunders" she whispered struggling to breath. Tommy let go of her neck and stepped back, satisfied with her reply. He picked up a small knife and twisted and turned it in his hands, "Sow who hired you?" he said coolly. Kathy remained silent; she refused to be intimidated by some guy with a knife. "That's confidential information" she replied dryly, her green eyes glaring at Rosenberg who had returned to his desk. Tommy sighed angrily, he moved the point of the knife against her throat, "Don't fuck with me, who sent you?" he said steadily getting angrier. The tip of the knife pierced her skin, she gulped, "fine, fine" she said sounding tired of being tied to a chair. "Some guy from the Forelli family offered me a million unmarked bills to take you and Rosenberg out," she said as she glanced around the dingy office, her eyes scanning over a number of books and folders. She cold feel the warm blood dripping down her leg and ankle.

Rosenberg choked and spluttered at the mention of the Forelli family name. Tommy Vercetti removed the dagger; he looked at the specks of blood on the shimmering metal. He placed the dagger on the desk and nodded to himself. Kathy hung her head low, she had broken her private code as an assassin. Kent Paul started to talk loudly.


	4. The deal

"Shut up, I need to think" Tommy interrupted. He paced up and down the tiny office for a minute debating the best possible action. A cunning smile crossed his face, "I'll make you a deal," he said turning his attention back to the assassin, "You do a few chores for me and I'll pretend that Kathy Saunders is just another normal person". Kathy paused, she knew that she had no real choice in the matter, "What kind of chores" she said as she shifted in the chair, the cables where still cutting into her arms.

"Nothing that an assassin of your caliber can't handle. So do we have a deal?" he said, his voice sly but showing no kindness. Kathy sighed, she nodded reluctantly, "looks as though we have a deal" she said almost miserably. Tommy grabbed the dagger and slashed the cables holding her to the chair. Kathy stood up quickly; she rubbed her arms and wrists. Tommy offered out his hand, Kathy shook it carefully.

"I'll be in touch," Tommy said as he opened the door to the office. Kathy stepped out of the office and into a dull hallway, "tell anyone and you're a dead man" she whispered bitterly, just loud enough for him to hear. She disappeared down the stairs, within seconds.

Tommy closed the door and look at two startled faces. Paul took a huge mouthful from another bottle that he had found in Rosenberg's desk.

"God what where you thinking Tommy. You just let an assassin that took a shot at my, MY life back onto the streets" Rosenberg panicked, "I'm dead, so dead" he kept muttering under his breath as he rested his head in his hands.

"Calm Down and shut up" Tommy said coldly, "She won't try anything, unless she wants to be hunted down by every gang in Vice City. More importantly she gave us the edge on the Forelli family".

Rosenberg nodded; he breathed deeply trying to fight off the panic attack. Tommy looked at his watch, "Get some sleep, we'll meet back here a 7am sharp" he said as he opened the door. He turned and looked at Kent Paul, "and sober up" as he slammed the door behind him.

Rosenberg stared at the closed door for a few minutes, "What a day" he sighed, "don't you think?" he said turning to Paul. There was no reply, as Paul had fallen asleep on the office floor, a bottle still clutched in his British hands. "Great" he muttered as he sat on the oak chair promptly falling asleep.

A knock at the door made Rosenberg stir in his sleep. He groaned, his shoulder felt stiff and sore. He forced an eye open, a clock on the wall showed that it was already 7am. The knocking continued, never stopping or softening. He rubbed his face, feeling the stubble of a five o'clock shadow. Rosenberg staggered to his feet, he pulled open the door. Tommy stood in the doorway; he pushed past Rosenberg and entered the office. He kicked Paul, who grunted and swore under his breath. "Wake up you bastard" Tommy said, kicking Paul harder. Paul let out a stunned puff of air and sat up slowly, "What the fuck" he grumbled.

"We've got work to do" Tommy said coolly as he sat himself down on the desk. He pushed his hand through his dark black hair and watched Paul stand up uneasily. "Miss Saunders will be here in five minutes," he said calmly. Ken Rosenberg shivered, "What! Here? Can I remind you she tired to kill me, it's a bad idea Tommy" he said, panic once again creeping into his voice. Rosenberg took his glasses off and cleaned them on the corner of his jacket; he replaced them on his face and looked around the office. Paul managed to stagger over to a chair. He rubbed his forehead, "Bloody hell, my heads bangin'" he said a little too loudly. Tommy looked at his watch, "She's not coming, I knew it, I knew" Rosenberg flustered. At that point there was a knock on the door. Tommy smirked as he got up and opened the door. In the doorway stood Kathy. She was dressed in a simple pair of blue jeans and a tight white t-shirt. The bottom of her jeans where tucked into a pair of knee high black boots. A dog tag hung around her neck and her hair hung loose and free, the tips reaching the small of her back. The bruises on her face had disappeared under a layer of carefully applied make up and there was no sign of her limping due to her wounded leg.

"Your late" Tommy said coldly as he stepped back to let her in. Kathy Sighed, "Really, I though it was a woman's purgative" she said with a smile as she slipped past, her hair brushed past Tommy's face. Rosenberg looked at her; he shifted uneasily in her presence, the memories of the night before still fresh in his mind. Paul looked her up and down, he was tempted to whistle but thought better of it.

"So come on, what meaningless jobs have you got," she said as she rested her weight on one leg. Tommy sat down behind the desk and rested his feet on the cluttered table. "Well then Kathy" he started to say.

"Kat" she interrupted, not happy that she was in this situation at all.

"Kat, how ironic" he said with an amused smile, "Well, a French reporter by the name of Leonardo has been causing trouble, snooping around. Take care of it, I'm sure you know how" Tommy took his feet off the desk and looked her directly in the eyes of the assassin. He picked up and small photo off the desk and offered it to her. Kat took it carefully. The man in the picture was at an age when the gray hairs where starting to show and he was making his last attempt to become a famed reporter.

"That's it" she said sounding bored, "no problem" she said confidently. She tossed the photo onto the desk; it twirled through the air and landed face down.

At that moment a mobile phone rung, making Rosenberg jump and Paul swear. Kat pulled a phone from her pocket. She looked at the number flashing on the screen. "Excuse me" she said as she turned to find that Tommy had grabbed her arm. "You're not going yet," he said bitterly. She shrugged him off and spoke into the phone, "I've taken care of it" she said sounding irritated, "He's in hospital, I'm letting nature take it from here. No, no I severely doubt that he'll survive. I'll keep you informed," she said defiantly sounding annoyed as she hung up. Kat turned to look at them, "Great now I've got the Forelli's on my back. And you had better keep a low profile for a while or they are going to figure out that your not laying on death's doorstep" she said pointing at Rosenberg. He nodded gratefully and even managed to smile weakly. Tommy smirked, "Why the change of heart" he said curiously. Kat rolled her eyes, "Because my head is on the line as well as Rosenberg's when it come to messing with Forelli's" she said as she opened the door of the office. She quickly sulked out, not wanting to think of the trouble she was in. Not just with the Forelli family but with the IRS. She was almost broke and that million was her last lifeline. Kat sighed; it appeared that she would have to return to mindless life of hired thug and common hit man. She walked coolly over to her 'borrowed' black sports car. She slipped inside and sat there for a moment. She took her mobile phone out of her pocket and looked at it. She cursed at her foolishness; she had covered for a victim. She shook her head; she should have never got involved. Kat turned on the radio; she had no idea why she had even spared the irritating trio. She grabbed her phone and dialed the Forelli family's number. Her finger hung over the call button, she closed her eyes and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and started the engine. She let the tires squeal as she raced down the road towards the only place an up-and-coming journalist would be, the racetracks. She turned the radio up, Styx was playing, she let the song blare out of the speakers and block out her thoughts.

Kat slowed as she passed an ambulance, the siren somehow seemed comforting to the assassin. She turned off onto a small dirt path and let the car stop under a leafy oak tree. She grabbed a thick bomber jacket and slipped it on. Then silently she opened the glove box and took out a small handgun. It would suit her needs perfectly. She slid the gun into the pocket of her jacket and got out of the car. She smelt the morning air; the faint aroma of manure was carried on the soft breeze.

Kat walked swiftly away from the car without looking back. There in front of her sat the derelict stadium, which had hosted many grand races in the past. Now however it was falling apart and though it was designed for racing horses, dogs where a common appearance. It never bothered the punters, as long as there was some sort of animal to bet on, they kept coming.

She pushed through a squeaky turntable. It may of only been morning but people had already started to gather. A few lackeys ran around placing bets for their mafia bosses, while the drunks hurled abuse and scurried along the floor looking for a few measly cents. Kat quickly spotted the reporter, but remained deadly calm. She walked over to a betting booth, "$20 on 3 to win" she said calmly as she slid a twenty-dollar bill through the slot. There was the creaking whirl of a machine before the attendant handed her a small slip of paper. She nodded politely and crept away. She sat on a damp bench and glanced over at her victim.

The reporter, Leonardo wrote something down on his hand and rushed past Kat. After he had passed through the turnstiles she got up and followed. Leonardo had pulled his car door open and was dialing a number into his car phone. Kat sighed and ducked behind a trashcan. She raised the gun. A bell rang shrilly, signally the start of a race. At that second Kat fired, the bullet smashing into the back of the reporters head. His very skull seemed to explode in a ball of blood and brains. His body folded on itself as he fell to the floor.

Kat quickly replaced the gun into the folds of the dark bomber jacket. She slithered back into the stadium. "Number 3 has crossed the line, against the odds number 3 has won" the excited voice crackled out of the old microphones. Kat smiled as she went to her booth to collect her winnings. She stuffed the hundred-dollar bill in her jeans pocket and beat and sly retreat from the racecourse.

In a matter of mere seconds she was back in her car, bomber jacket tucked neatly under the passenger seat. Kat carefully reversed the car out from under the tree and headed back onto the main streets of Vice city.

On the drive back Kat pulled over and cleaned the gun of her prints, she then tossed into a garbage bin next to an unconscious hobo. She crept back into the car and swiftly drove away. She smiled in a relaxed manner, knowing that she had covered her tracks for good.

Back in Rosenberg's office Tommy Vercetti was flicking through some files, trying to get some more information on Kathy Saunders. All he had gotten so far was that she had been caught stealing a couple of times and had been charged with GBH but none of the accusations had stuck.

Rosenberg sat in the corner of his office eating a box of noodles that he had ordered over the phone. As for Kent Paul he had returned to the Malibu, a nightclub that he seemed to live in most of the time.

The telephone rang. Tommy looked over at Rosenberg, who just shook his head, refusing to answer it. Tommy sighed and picked up the phone. He frowned as the familiar voice spoke into his ear. "Hello Sonny" he said sounding far from pleased. Sonny was one of the Forelli family and a troublemaker.

"How are things going between you and Rosenberg" Sonny said slyly.

There was a quiet knock on the door followed by the entrance of Kat. Tommy seemed not to notice, "Not good. Rosenberg is in hospital. The doctors doubt he'll last long" he said pretending to sound slightly concerned. Tommy spoke on the phone for another minute before he hung up.

Kat smiled, relieved that he had said nothing about her failure or of her identity. Tommy shrugged it off, "I covered your back. Now have you taken care of our nosey reporter"

Kat nodded, "Of course" she said as she turned her attention to her black fingernails. Tommy nodded casually, "Nice job" he mused as he took something from his pocket and gave it to Kat. She flicked through the envelope; there was two hundred dollars in tens and twenty dollar bills. She shrugged as if the money meant nothing, "Hardly a million is it," she muttered coldly as she pocketed the cash. "So deals done, I'm out of here," she said as she turned on her heel and stepped towards the door. She stopped suddenly as she heard a click from behind her. There was no mistaking that sound, it was the noise of someone cocking a pistol. Kat sighed and closed her eyes as Tommy spoke, "The deals not over yet". Rosenberg sat watching silently, carefully eating his greasy noodles and tangy sauces.

Tommy lowered the gun slightly, "I have a proposition for you" he said with a sly smile. Kat sighed, "I'm not interested," she said becoming irritated that someone dared to try and control her. He smirked amused at how easily he had gained control of one of the most feared assassins in Vice city.

"You don't have a choice. Now listen good," he said sternly. Kat turned around slowly; a loose strand of black hair fell over one of her vibrant green eyes. She waited patiently for him to speak again. She thought of making a run for it but knew perfectly well that she would be sprawled on the floor in seconds. Tommy finally spoke, "You work for me and I'll keep the Forelli's off your back, permanently," Kat almost laughed, "I'm more than capable of handling the Forelli's". Tommy was a little offended but hid it well, like all of his feelings. Tommy glanced over at Rosenberg and signaled him to leave. The colour drained from Rosenberg's face but he knew there was no point in arguing. He got up and sheepishly left the office. He stood in the hallway for a few seconds, listening, before he wandered down the bare corridors, going nowhere in particular.

"Perhaps the Black Panther can deal with the Forelli's but can Kathy Saunders?" he threatened. Kat scowled, she was furious. Her eyes seemed to glow with rage. "You wouldn't dare" she hissed, trying to keep calm and fight the urge to attack him. Tommy snickered and nodded smugly. Kat shook her head angrily. She pivoted on one leg, kicking his hand in an attempt to knock the gun from his grasp. She turned and darted towards the door, as she touched the door handle Tommy wrapped his arm around her neck and pulled her back. He pressed the gun against her head. She cursed and tried to pull away but Tommy's arm didn't move.

"Care to rethink that reply" he whispered into her ear. She felt his breath against her pierced earlobe. Kat closed her eyes as if she was trying to gain the strength to speak. She kept her eyes tightly shut as she spoke, "Doesn't seem that I have a choice in the matter" she paused and sighed softly. A faint smell of aftershave crept up her nostrils, the smell seemed sickly sweet. "Very well, I'll...I'll work for you" she whispered lowing her head disgracefully. She felt Tommy move his arm away from her neck but kept close, "Good to hear it" he muttered as he stepped back and stared at the miserable figure of his latest employee. Kat pulled the door open angrily and stepped out into the dimly lit hallway. She paused and took a flick knife from the top of her boot. It whipped open silently. Kat turned swiftly on her heel and threw it at Tommy. It sliced through the collar of his shirt with a faint rip, narrowly missing his throat.

"Betray me and next time I won't miss" she said with a sly smile as she turned sharply, her hair billowed after her a she darted calmly out of the door.

Tommy looked at his cut shirt, "I liked this shirt" he muttered to himself. Tommy turned around; the knife had stuck in the wall behind his head. The blade had pierced an elegant oil painting. He ripped the knife out of the canvas and examined the beautifully carved handle of the deadly weapon. He smiled as he folded the blade in and shoved it in his back pocket. Tommy shook his head; he would have to keep a careful eye on this assassin.


	5. Housecall

It had been almost three days since Kat had left the office in a foul mood. She sat in a battered armchair; foam was starting to slip out of a couple of holes. A tatty book lay open on her lap although Kat herself had fallen into an uncomfortable slumber.

The doorbell rung dully. Kat opened one green eye and sighed. She hauled herself out of the chair; the book fell on the dirty green carpet with a soft thud. She stood on an empty yet greasy pizza box. A tiny bit of melted cheese stuck to her trainers. She moved down a narrow hallway, the pale blue wallpaper had started to peel at the top. She reached the front door of her apartment. Next to the door hung a supposed ornamental curved dagger. She rested one hand on the handle of the dagger as she opened the door.

Tommy stood there silently, his arms crossed in an impatient gesture. Kat sighed and took her hand off the dagger, Tommy pushed past and entered the filthy apartment. Kat turned on her heel, she slammed the door, "What the hell are you doing here?" she said bitterly. Tommy looked down the narrow cluttered hallway. His eyes looking over the run down flat.

"Checking on my staff", he whistled as he noticed piles upon piles of old books and boxes cluttering most of the rooms. He noticed a small kitchen at one end of the hall and a bedroom off to the right. "Nice place" he said in a sarcastic tone, "not used to visitors" he said as he glanced over at the dagger by the door. She smiled a weak forced smile. "Cut the crap Vercetti" she said bitterly as she pushed past him and entered the kitchen. She pulled open a dated fridge and looked through the bare shelves. She managed to find two cans of larger. Tommy leaned over and snatched one of the cans. He opened it and took a mouthful from it, his eyes catching sight of a small handgun on the kitchen side. Kat opened the other can and walked swiftly into the living room, not wanting to hear whatever Tommy had to say. She sat down in the armchair and picked up the book that she had knocked off her lap earlier. She placed it on another pile of books which sat as high as the chair itself. Tommy pushed some books and dirty plates off an old oak table as he sat on it. He looked over the mess with some interest.

"Money problems I take it" he said as he caught sight of a stack of bills threatening to cut off its supply. Kat didn't reply for a minute, "I'm not in the mood to play games Vercetti" she said as she took another mouthful of the cool beer. Tommy frowned; he glanced around the room, his eyes no longer focused on the mess but the number of elegant swords and daggers that hung on the wall. "Its Tommy" he said coldly, "and I believe you have some work to do". Kat sighed and put her can down; she was about to hurl verbal abuse against her terms of work but something made her pause. "Shit" she whispered. She had heard the slam of a car door but more importantly the hushed tones of some of Forelli's men. Tommy got up and moved over to the window opposite Kat. From there he saw two black cars, both empty except for the driver. The pair nodded as a silent thought came into both their minds. Tommy moved swiftly into the kitchen taking the handgun from the counter. Kat grabbed a sword from the wall. Its deadly blade shimmered slightly under the cheap light bulb.

There was a sinister knock at the door, Kat nodded to herself as she moved towards the door. Her grip on the sword tightened as she opened the door. Eight burley men smashed through the door, each dressed smartly in a suit, a gun concealed under their jackets. The apparent leader suddenly noticed Kat's weapon and drew his gun. In one swift move Kat cut his very hand off. He screamed as his hand hit the carpet and the blood spurted from his wrist. The other men looked alarmed. Tommy stepped into the hallway and fired, hitting two of Forelli's men. Kat swung the sword again slicing the dying leaders throat. She snatched the gun from blood soaked floor. She swiftly peeled the cold lifeless hand off the handgun and fired at another of Forelli's men. Kat dived behind a stack of boxes as the intruders fired. She curled up and waited for a break in the gunfire. Tommy fired, managing to take out another man. Kat took his opportunity to stand up and fired two bullets into the necks of two shocked men.

Now only two of the gang remained alive. The two men continued to fire as they backed out of the doorway. One of them muttered something into a phone. Tommy and Kat fired at the same time, finally taking out the last of the Forelli gunmen. The man's phone dropped onto the floor, landing it a pile of dark blood. Kat could hear someone yelling down the other end of the phone. The agitated voice belonged to Sonny, however no one answered him. Kat stood on the phone, letting it shattered beneath her feet. She looked down at her once blue t-shirt; it was covered in quickly drying blood. A drop of blood was splattered over her cheek; she tried to wipe it off but only smeared.

"Looks like the Forelli's have worked out who you are" Tommy said coolly as he looked out of the window to see the pair of cars speed away. Kat tossed the gun on the floor and looked at her blood-coated sword, which she was still holding. She raised the blade slightly. "And who's fault is that" she said dryly, too tired to threaten him. She grabbed a large black rucksack and started to pack a few things. Money, weapons and a spare change of clothes where packed quickly. She tossed the bag by the door and proceeded towards the bathroom. "I need a shower" she muttered looking at the blood. Tommy crossed his arms, "So I take it that you're leaving" he said totally un-amused with her cowardly behavior. Kat bit her lip and forced herself to ignore him as she took a bundle of clothes into the bathroom and locked the door.

Tommy rolled his eyes and paced up the blood soaked hallway. He sighed and wondered into the kitchen, browsing through the cupboards and shelves. He heard the boiler click as Kat turned on the shower. He opened a small cardboard box, packed inside was several files and folders. He picked a couple of the folders up. Scrawled neatly on each folder was a name. One was labeled Ken Rosenberg, another said Kent Paul. He flicked through the folders, noticing the attention to detail and professional research. He smirked as he noticed an old photo of Rosenberg from his college years. The boiler clicked off suddenly, the pipes squeaking and groaning as the water-cooled. Another minute passed before the bathroom door opened slowly.

Kat stepped into the hall; she was now dressed in a pair of black jeans and a black halter neck. Her wet hair hung around her face. She grabbed her rucksack and slung it over her shoulder. She caught sight of Tommy nosing through her boxes in the kitchen. Tommy dropped the files back into the box and paced over to the door. The door was ajar still, Kat simply slipped through it. Tommy followed swiftly; he caught the back of


	6. Sonny's Revenge

. The door was ajar still, Kat simply slipped through it. Tommy followed swiftly; he caught the back of her bag with one of his strong hands. Kat sighed, "What now?" she asked impatiently. She didn't even both to turn to look at him.

"Where are you going to go? I don't want you to get any ideas about running off" he said bitterly as he let go her rucksack. She sighed, "Where the hell can I go, I'm broke and now thanks to you the Forelli's want me dead" she cried her voice just under an angry scream. Kat stormed through the apartment hallway. It was littered with bin bags and cigarette ends. She pushed through a graffiti covered door that lead to the cold bare stairwell. An elderly drunken hobo was curled up under a torn brown coat, a bottle of vodka nursed in his arms. Kat passed him quickly and trotted down the stairs, her fingers brushing over the peeling metal banister. Tommy followed; he tossed a couple cents down at the man. The man looked up gratefully, his cloudy blue eyes seemed to sparkle for a second. Tommy leapt down a couple of stairs after Kat; she simply ignored his loud footsteps and exited the apartment. The air was warm and the sun forced itself through a patch of murky clouds. Kat's eyes stared down at the ground, she moved quickly, weaving in and out of the stream of people; most of whom were tourists. She didn't notice the blacked out car pull up on the other side of the road. Several pairs of eyes watched her walk down the street from behind the dark glass. One of the mysterious men in the car nodded and slipped out of the car quickly blending in with the crowd. Tommy slowed his pace, taking in the surroundings. He held back and kept watching silently.

The man was a loyal lackey of Sonny Forelli, who went by the name of Lee. His light blonde hair was cut short in a military style and his eyes where hidden behind a thick pair of sunglasses. He stuffed his hands into his navy tracksuit bottoms and looked down at his faded red basketball shirt. He often glanced up at Kat as he followed, always keeping several meters behind. Kat finally looked up, the sun had been wrapped up in a thick ball of cloud that was now washing over the sky. She looked around carefully; it was a habit she had picked up over the years. Her eyes quickly returned to the ground. Lee back off calmly as Kat looked around, he sighed and jogged into a small slip road. He knew this area well and made full advantage of it. In a matter of seconds Lee had disappeared and re-emerged in an alleyway next to a greasy burger bar. Kat unwitting approached the ally, unaware of being watched. Lee moved swiftly, he leapt out of the ally and grabbed Kat, putting one hand over of her mouth and the other around her waist, dragging her into the darkness. He threw Kat into the wall. She hit it hard, hearing her ribs creak. She scowled and turned around quickly. Lee held a small pistol that had hung around his waist, hidden under the baggy folds of his shirt. He fired, hitting Kat in the stomach. She fell against the wall, slipping to the floor. Lee smiled, "Remember, don't screw with the Forelli's" he said muttered his strong American accent showing. Tommy rounded the corner; he had been following Lee ever since he had stepped out of Sonny's car. Tommy now stood in the entrance of the ally; his eyes first fell on the lifeless lump then the approaching figure. Lee looked Tommy up and down, he raised the gun, but Tommy moved quickly. He punched Lee squarely in the face knocking him back. He grabbed the gun and fired at Lee before he could get to his feet. Lee fell back, his blood giving fresh colour to his worn out shirt. His eyes frozen in a look of terror and shock. Tommy threw the gun down and ran over to the motionless silhouette. Kat managed to look up; her eyes seemed to be drained of their usual lively colour. Tommy glanced down at the gunshot wound, blood flowed heavily. She shivered, the cold and icy hand of death rested on her shoulder. Darkness seemed to surround her, she managed to raise her head and glance at Tommy's worried face as she slipped into a deadly slumber.


	7. A&E

Tommy swore loudly, he picked up Kats limp body and carried it out of the ally. He looked around, noticing that Sonny's car was still parked further down the street. He cursed angrily and ran towards a large red sports car that had pulled over, so that the driver could get out and ask for directions. The foolish driver had even left the keys in the ignition. Tommy dropped her in the passenger seat as he leapt into the roofless car. The engine roared into life as the car speed away in a cloud of dust and fumes, leaving the driver open mouthed.

Tommy drove towards a private hospital that he had visited once or twice. They had a high number of gun shot patients, but never asked awkward questions only patched the clients up and took their pay. He stepped on the gas making the car lurch forward. Tommy swerved in and out of traffic; the Speedo soared up to the 100mph mark. He glanced at Kat; her blood had stained her shirt and had started to cover the seat. He forced himself to look back at the road. He swerved to the right, jumping a red light. A couple of cars honked their horns angrily as they where forced to stop. A run down warehouse loomed ahead in the ancient industrial estate. It had been cunningly transformed into the private hospital. The car squealed to a halt in the small abandoned car park. Tommy leapt out, picking Kat carefully off the passenger seat. Her head lolled backwards as he ran over to the front door and kicked it open. A tall shady looking doctor walked up to Tommy, "Ah Mr Vercetti" he started to say as his eyes fell onto the blood-coated body. He frowned, and pressed a button on his pager. A male and female nurse rushed in with a stretcher. "Think you can save her?" Tommy asked quietly. The doctor stood quietly, his finger on Kat's wrist. He paused, "I'm not sure, it could go either way" he said trying to sound sympatric as the nurses rushed Kat out of the plain lobby. The doctor rushed after the nurses, pulling a pair of white rubbed gloves from his long coat pocket. Tommy paced up and down the reception. A few old posters of rock stars, tourist attractions and general advertisements, including ads for the local radio stations. Tommy looked over all the posters, then at his watch. A huge muscle bound man staggered into the reception, he had wrapped a black jacket around his wrist. The receptionist looked him up and down. She pressed a button and a pale doctor stepped out into the bare room. The receptionist pushed a strand of blonde hair behind one of her ears, "That will be $500" she said casually to the doctor, who nodded and took the patient down a corridor to patch him up. The receptionist wrote down the amount on a piece of paper and filed it. In the private hospital they had a special way of charging customers. The cost would be put on a type of tab. If they didn't pay within a week of surgery, then a few heavy bailiffs would come and collect the money one way or another.

Tommy stepped outside and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He dialed a number, Rosenberg answered. "Bring three thousand dollars to the portside private hospital" he said coldly, not saying much more. He hung up and returned to the sterile warmth of the reception room. He forced himself to sit down in one of the plastic chairs. Tommy sighed and crossed his legs. It felt like it took hours for another car to arrive at the hospital. However Rosenberg had not come to deliver the money. Kent Paul entered the reception glad to be out of the cold. He held a bulging envelope of cash, which Tommy snatched swiftly. "Oi!" Paul mumbled, "Rosie's still in hiding" he said chuckling a little. Tommy didn't laugh, he seemed deep in thought. When he finally spoke, he said it in an emotionless tone, "Sonny's getting wise to us" he paused for a second, "Go warn Rosenberg and try to keep a low profile". Paul nodded agitated at his orders. He cursed repeatedly under his breath as he stormed out of the hospital, "What the hell does he think I am, a bloody paper boy" he sulked.

Tommy rolled his head back and looked at the ceiling briefly before he closed his eyes. He was bored of sitting in the plain room; it had almost been three hours since he had received the money. The doctor finally reappeared. He pulled his gloves off. They were coated in blood; he tossed them into a metal bin idly. He bent forward, "Mr Vercetti" he said softly not certain if he was awake or not. Tommy opened his eyes and rolled his head forward. The doctor smiled, "It's been a success so far. Although she will be in an almost critical condition for the next week". Tommy nodded gratefully and handed him the envelope of money. The doctor smiled weakly, "however" he started to say as quickly slipped the money into his pocket, "There is no more beds available and we can't take in anyone who may bring in trouble. You're aware of the policy" he said constantly remaining professional and yet stern. Tommy nodded, "Yes of course. That won't be a problem" he said thinking quickly. The doctor nodded and pressed a button on his pager. One of the female nurses pushed a wheelchair containing Kat into the lobby. The doctor passed Tommy a white box of strong painkillers and smiled politely. He nodded and wheeled her out of the hospital. Tommy walked over to the stolen car. He dropped her limp body into the blood stained passenger seat. He noticed that Kat was still dressed in the bloody clothes. Her face looked deadly pale but some how innocent. He leapt into the driver seat and drove calmly drove towards his apartment.


	8. Awakening

Kat shifted slightly. She didn't have the strength to open her eyes but she could feel something soft pressing against her skin. A sweet yet familiar smell seemed to enter her nose. She managed to roll over, pain shot through stomach. She muttered a small groan and forced an eye open. Her head felt heavy and she couldn't seem to lift it. Her eyes finally seemed to adapt to the dim room. She tried to take in the room around her. The room was cluttered but nowhere near as filthy as hers had been. The walls were a pale blue, the floor appeared to be carpeted in a dark material. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling, it seemed to sway slightly. A wardrobe stood tall and proud in the furthest corner. A small table sat next to the bed, a glass of water and a packet of painkillers had been placed there for her. Kat closed her eyes, trying to remember what had happened. The sweet smell crept up her nose again. An image flashed into her mind. She could see herself standing deadly still, a gun held tight against her head and a cold voice whispering in her ear.

As if on queue the bedroom door swung open and Tommy Vercetti stepped in. He carried Kat's rucksack and dropped it beside the wardrobe. He turned at glanced at her. She forced a smile; "Thanks" she muttered remembering what had happened. He nodded and walked over to the bed, sitting carefully on the end. "So you've woken up at last" he teased, his voice oddly quite. Kat pulled a puzzled face; she had no idea of how long she had been out. "You've been out for six days straight". Kat swore under her breath. Tommy smirked and stood up. Kat sighed, "You have been nothing but trouble" she said thinking about the Forelli's attacking her home, shooting her. Tommy just smiled as he closed the door behind him.

Kat closed her eyes for a second before she attempted to roll over and sit up. Pain shot through her body, she stifled a scream and concentrated on reaching the painkillers. She took three of the pasty white pills and tossed them in her mouth, washing it down with the cold water. She pushed the soft duvet off her sore body. She glanced at her clothes they where still stained in rich blood. A thick bandage had been wrapped tightly around her entire stomach. Kat slowly yet steadily rolled out of bed, forcing herself to try and ignore the pain. She staggered over to her rucksack. Someone had tried to wipe the dry blood of the bag but some of it remained. She pulled open the bag and pulled out some clean clothes. She glanced at the closed door as she slipped off her stained jeans and replaced them with a clean blue pair. She carefully pulled her halter neck over her head, she flinched in pain. Kat then tugged a dark maroon red strap shirt on. She sighed and looked down at her bare feet, someone had placed the battered sneakers at the foot of the bed. She couldn't help feeling curious, a phrase popped into her head, "Curiosity killed the cat". She frowned and shook her head, "but satisfaction brought it back" she whispered to herself with a smug smile. She crept over to the door ignoring the fuzzy carpet under her feet. Kat carefully pulled the door open, just enough to allow one of her green eyes to peer out. A large pleasant room lay out in front of her. A small wooden kitchen area sat in the farthest corner next to the front door. A TV sat in the center of the room and a green sofa sat parallel to it against the wall. A few dozen empty bottles where piled beside the TV and a cheap yellow blanket was thrown on a heap on the green sofa. Even a few empty glass bottles had found there way into the bundle. The floor appeared a cold and unwelcoming gray, while the walls where white and bare. A few posters where plastered over cracks in the paint. While to Kat's surprise a large stolen piece of abstract art hung proudly on the wall. She noticed another small doorway at the other side of the room; it appeared to be a bathroom door. The door clicked and started to swing open. Tommy stepped out of the bathroom; he was dressed in his usual manner. However his Hawaiian shirt flapped around his chest. He appeared to have a very masculine muscled body despite the fact that everyone over looked the matter. He scrubbed his dripping black hair with a lemon yellow towel as he made his was to the fridge and pulled out a cold brew. He looked at it but reluctantly put it back and focused on drying his hair. Kat held her breath; she carefully closed the door, praying that he hadn't noticed her watching. Kat found herself smiling and blushing slightly, but she soon caught herself and returned to her normal cold composure. She bit her lip hard and ran her hand through her sleek hair as she regained control of her emotions and senses before she pulled the door open and prepared to face her host. Kat limped forward, the floor feeling coarse underfoot. Tommy glanced up as he tossed the wet towel over the arm of the sofa.

"Morning" he said with a fresh and alert smile before he turned his attention to the fridge, rooting through the shelves for something other than beer. He finally pulled a large carton of orange juice from the fridge, kicking the door shut at the same time. He turned and grabbed two small glasses from a cupboard and placed them on the small counter. Kat limped over to the kitchen area; she looked at the painting on the wall. "That's an original piece by Craig Stucough, if I'm not mistaken. The very same one that mysterious disappeared last year" she said casually. Tommy smirked as he poured the juice into the pair of clear glasses, "Yep. I had no idea I was in the presence of a critic" he teased as he tossed the empty carton in the bin. Kat laughed softly, she had forgotten the last time that she had actually laughed freely without being drunk or high on her own adrenaline. Kat picked up one of the glasses; she held it to her lips, savoring the smell. "I had no idea you were a collector" she replied smugly before she took a quite sip of the cleansing orange drink. Tommy took a mouthful and swallowed it quickly. He put the empty glass down heavily in the sink. Kat was surprised that it didn't shatter from the force. Tommy however didn't seem to notice. He simply walked over to look at the art that he had been given as a grateful gift from a rich Texan property tycoon. He buttoned his shirt up as he looked up at it and shrugged his shoulders hopelessly, "How it can be worth millions I have no idea" he mused loudly as he turned his back to it, to see Kat watching him carefully. Kat nodded in agreement, "Its ridiculous but as long as I can pawn it for hard cash then its fine by me" she said in a cool and conversational tone. Tommy suppressed a laugh, he couldn't help being amused that someone who had once owned millions and could of funded an exquisite lifestyle, was so down to earth and frank.


	9. Neighbours

There was a knock at the door. Kat looked slightly startled at first, if it had surprised Tommy it certainly didn't show. He calmly walked over to the apartment door and opened it slowly. He let out an irritated groan and Kat soon knew why.

Standing in the doorway was Kent Paul, with a bottle of whisky in one hand and a handful of letters in the other hand. Nervously pacing behind him was Rosenberg. He appeared as white and tense as usual. The pair pushed their way into the room.

"Thank god your here Tommy. We've been plagued with hate mail. My god, I mean I love fish, in a bowl, on a plate but I don't want to sleep with them Tommy" Rosenberg said panicking and pacing madly around the room. Not even pausing to breath properly.

"Shut up" Tommy said sounding agitated and angry that his peace was disturbed by a drunken Brit and a hyper ventilating lawyer. "Let me see the mail" he continued coolly. Paul handed him the mail then staggered over to the sofa and collapsed in front of the TV, promptly turning it on and channel surfing. Kat rolled her eyes at the scene and took one of the letters off of Tommy. She read it quickly, instantly recognising the style of Sonny Forelli. She let it flutter onto the counter silently.

"Looks like you're on the wanted list too" Tommy said coolly. He read part of the letter again this time out loud. "Your a dead man Vercetti, so is your pathetic lawyer, the drunk British guy and that useless excuse for an assassin" He passed the letter to Kat. She smirked, "And your little dog too" she muttered as she screwed the letter up and threw it into the bin. Kat limped over to the sofa slowly and sat down next to Paul. A cheesy game show was just coming to a finale. Paul pretended to yawn and stretched his arms out, slowly bringing them down on her shoulders. Kat smirked, "Remember that threat, it still stands" she said slyly. Kent Paul quickly removed his arm and shifted uneasily. The TV show was interrupted by a commercial about some sort of cleaning product.

Tommy and Rosenberg were talking quietly. Kat watched them for a few seconds, trying to read their faces. She sighed and turned her attention back to the television. She rolled her eyes, she felt bored and couldn't seem to focus, no doubt the side effects of the pain killers had started to take effect. Kat curled her legs up on the sofa. "That's it, I've got a great idea" Rosenberg cried out in an excited tone. Paul shook his head and returned his eyes to the TV. Kat didn't even bother to take her eyes of the TV, which was now showing a poor quality war movie. "Well the apartment across the hall is up for sale. I could move it there" Rosenberg cried a little too excited. Tommy let about an almost silent groan of disbelief. Tommy was unusually silent for a moment, before he even had the chance to reply Rosenberg had dashed off, saying something about seeing the manager. Tommy looked over at Kat and Paul appearing a little stunned. Paul chuckled, even Kat giggled quietly. Tommy shook his head and walked over to the TV as well. He pushed in between Kat and Paul and watched the television. "I suppose he does have a point" Kat said being slightly skeptical. Tommy glared at her but said nothing. The trio turned their attention to the late morning TV shows.

Rosenberg returned almost ten minutes later with a proud look upon his usually cowardly face. He watched the trio, "Hey guys, I got it. I got the apartment" he cried excitedly. Kat rolled her eyes and elegantly stood up, "Congratulations" she said neither being sarcastic or pleased with Rosenberg. She limped past him and focused her attention on searching the fridge. However Rosenberg didn't seem too bothered by the emotionless response. "The place even has two bedrooms" he said trying to make conversation. Kent Paul finally looked over at Rosenberg. "Great. We can share a bed" he said winking at Kat, who merely scowled back. Tommy smirked and shook his head at the feuding pair. He sighed, "So when are you moving in?".

Rosenberg had finished moving in the very same day. It was now ten thirty, the sun had set hours ago and had been replaced by the cleansing darkness of the night. Tommy and Paul had helped with the move, while Kat reluctantly rested. Paul had decided to take the spare bedroom when he realized that he could get away without paying rent, after all Rosenberg was hardly the type to hassle anybody.

Kat sat curled up on the sofa, wrapped in the yellow blanket watching an old horror movie. The blanket like many things was laden with the potent smell of aftershave. However Kat hardly seemed to notice anymore. She pulled the blanket up around her neck to keep a little warmer.

The door swung open silently, Tommy stepped in. He seemed exhausted and very fed up. He glanced at Kat quickly before he turned towards the fridge and pulled out a well-earned bottle of beer. He collapsed in the sofa next to Kat. The bottle opened with a slight hiss, Tommy had almost drunk half the bottle before he pulled it away from his mouth. He watched the movie, which he quickly recognized as Hitcocks's classic chilling physiological thriller, Psycho.

"Those two..." he muttered sound exasperated. Kat smiled softly, "Nothing you can do about it now" she said just before she yawned. The painkillers had been making her unbelievably drowsy and although she despised the feeling she needed the pills to rid herself of the excruciating pain she constantly felt. They both watched the movie for another half hour, Tommy quickly finishing his beer.

As the closing image of Norman Bates staring into the camera, Tommy glanced at Kat. She had fallen asleep curled up in a tight bundle. Tommy stretched and let out a quiet yawn. He stood up carefully, trying not to wake her. He switched off the television then the light. Tommy watched her hunched up silhouette twitch and breath rhythmically before he finally broke his stare and crept over to his bedroom.


	10. Deception

He let the single bulb light up the simple room. He perched on the end of his bed thoughtfully. The sheets of the bed had been pulled into place neatly. His eyes looked over the rest of the room, his eyes paused on Kat's blood stained clothes then onto her rucksack that lay half open on the floor. Tommy looked around almost expecting to see Kat watching from the doorway. Instead there was only the darkness. He got up quietly and sat on the floor next to the bag. Silently he pawed through the bag taking everything out as he looked. The bag contained a variety of knives and daggers all beautifully decorated, there were about five in total. He also found a pair of powerful handguns complete with black leather holsters. There was also a wallet containing six hundred dollars, a stolen credit card and a passport. A small pile of screwed up clothes and lingerie had been crushed at the bottom of the bag. Tommy was about to throw the stuff back into the bag when something caught his eye. Wrapped in a black lacy bra was her cell phone and a set of mysterious keys. He unfolded the bra; the screen on the phone was flashing five missed calls. Tommy cocked his head slightly as he flicked through the missed calls. All five numbers were the same and very familiar. They where from the Forelli's. He glanced at the keys assuming that they just the keys to her apartment. He quickly tossed everything back into the rucksack, all except for the mobile phone. Tommy stood up staring at the phone for a while. He shrugged and put the phone on the bedside table next to the glass of water. He sat on the bed; his legs stretched out on the lumpy duvet and stared at the wall opposite.

The night passed slowly and Tommy found himself waking up several times to the eerie silence. Eventually he gave up any hope of sleep and focused on solving the Forelli problem. So far he had yet to find a practical solution, he needed to buy some time that he didn't have. He drifted into another uneasy doze. He woke suddenly, a sound had torn him away from his slumber and now he was conscious and deadly alert. The light was still switched on, glaring brightly. Tommy slipped off the bed and crept over to the door, which was ajar. He watched the dark room carefully. A slender figure limped around in the dark breathing heavily. He secretly smiled softly as he watched Kat curl back up on the sofa. Tommy watched her for a while before he returned to sitting on his bed.

The sun rose over the city, its rays shimmered between the skyscrapers signally dawn. The apartment building was totally silent. Kat stood up slowly and stretched, she still suffered with the stiffness and pain but at least she no longer felt exhausted. She savored the silence for a second before she froze sensing someone watching her. She turned to see Tommy watch her suspiciously. He was still dressed in the clothes from yesterday, he walked up to her swiftly, something black was clutched tightly in his left hand. He held out the phone, as if to show her.

"It seems that you boss has been trying to get in touch" he said coldly, there seemed to be an edge of anger in his voice. At first Kat seemed stunned but the feeling rapidly turned to rage that her privacy had been invaded. She was about to fly at him when she noticed something shimmer in his right hand. Instead she just shrugged and prepared herself for an argument.

"You've got some explaining to do and you had better make it good" he said coldly as he stepped forward. Kat sighed and shook hr head.

"What...How should I know what he wants. I'm on his hate list remember" She stammered.

"How do I know you're not setting me up?"

"The bastard tried to kill me, funnily I'm not going to do him any favors" She said angrily. Tommy scowled and rubbed his stubble chin, "We'll see about that later" he said slipping the switchblade into his pocket. He strolled past her and into the kitchen. Kat looked bemused but kept quiet, she knew she was hardly in any position to cause trouble. She sulked over to the sofa and slumped into it.

Tommy kicked the fridge door shut angrily, Kat didn't bother to look up, and part of her was scared to. The lack of sleep and beer had put Tommy in a foul mood. He paced to and fro angrily, mentally adding the final bits of his plan together. He glanced at Kat from the corner of his eye. He tossed the mobile phone at her; she managed to catch it without even looking up at Tommy.


	11. The call

"Call him. Call Sonny" he said dryly. Kat looked up slightly concerned, she was about to speak but Tommy interrupted her. "Do it!" he yelled angrily. Kat stood up quickly, too quickly. Her stomach throbbed painfully making her curse under her breath. "Call him. Tell Sonny that your alive and that you'll finish the job. Also tell him that I'm planning to take out Diaz and that's when you'll make the hit" he said showing no emotion in the slightest. Kat seemed worried but dialed the number anyway. She listened to the ringing tone nervously. She toyed with her long dark hair absently as she waited for Sonny to answer. Sonny eventually answered.

"Ah, so you finally called back. Tell me how are you doing, I take it you survived the shooting"

Kat paused for a moment; she detested the smug sound of Sonny's voice. She glanced at Tommy for a second, "Fighting for life as ever" she said coldly, "What do you want Sonny?" she asked wearily. Sonny laughed bitterly. "News, I want to know what's going on with Vercetti and the rest of Vice City. Of course I'll be willing to offer a good price for your skills"

"Alright, for the right price of course"

"Half a million and your life intact"

Kat sighed and nodded reluctantly, "Ok, we have a deal"

"So start talking"

"Well Vercetti planning to take out Diaz and steal his mansion...I'm gonna take him out after he takes out Diaz. He won't know what hit him" she said emotionless. Sonny seemed impressed for a second before suspicion crept into his voice.

"What made you change your mind?"

"Just call it a personal vendetta" she said a tiny smile creepy into the edge of her mouth.

"Maybe its time I visited Vice City myself. Perhaps I'll see you there"

"Perhaps. Oh and Sonny don't forget the money" she replied coolly as she hung up.

Kat looked down at the phone for a second then turned her attention to Tommy. She threw the phone at him and stormed past. She pulled open the front door of the apartment and glanced back at Tommy. Her eyes watched him carefully, silently before she turned sharply slamming the door behind her.

Tommy sighed, "Women" he muttered under his breath as he bent down and picked up the black mobile phone. He stared at it before putting it down on the kitchen counter. He thought about visiting Paul and Rosenberg across the hall but he thought better of it. Instead he wandered into the simple bathroom. He ran the sink tap, letting the cold fresh water run over his hands. He caught some of the clean water in his cupped hands and splashed it over his face. Tommy looked up at his reflection in the mirror, water ran down his face. His eyes seemed sunken in and bloodshot from lack of sleep. He shook his head then dried his face with a towel that had been thrown across the floor. He didn't bother to shave this morning, as he knew he had too much to do. With great haste he strolled almost ran into the bedroom and pulled open the wardrobe. He lifted a board at the bottom of the wardrobe, which revealed a secret space packed with guns and ammunition. He pulled out an ak47 and a handful of clips. He also took a handgun and holster. Tommy quickly put the holster on and shoved the handgun within its leather straps. He slipped on a black jacket to hide the gun. Finally he put the clips in his jeans pocket and grabbed the ak47 and left the apartment silently.

The cell phone on the counter started to ring eerily, something big was about to go down.


	12. Diaz's place

Kat sat in a trashy bar, ignoring the lusty looks from some of the drunken men. Instead she focused on the bottom of her shot glass. She pushed the glass forward signaling a refill. She didn't look up as some faceless person filled the shot glass with vodka. She pulled a crumpled five-dollar bill for her pocket and left it on the bar while she stared down at her drink. Kat sighed softly, she had no idea how much she had drunk but it didn't bother her. She frowned slightly then lifted the glass as if she intended to toast something. She emptied the glass in a single mouthful and slammed the glass down on the bar top as she stood up. She left the bar managing to look incredibly sober and somber.

Tommy sat in an expensive looking red sports car. He had parked across the street and looked up at Ricardo Diaz's mansion. He had two plans but both were risky. Finally he started the engine and turned the car around and slowly drove up the bricked driveway. The mansion loomed threatening above him.

Tommy stopped the car at the foot of the marble stairs. He glanced up at the huge double oak doors, Diaz stood there, a fine Cuban cigar hung out the side of the mouth. He nodded at Tommy as he noticed him.

Ricardo Diaz was a short, fat and rather hairy man. He wore a baggy red t-shirt, which seemed to have some sort of black pattern dotted across it. His hands where shoved in his jeans pockets, stubbornly.

Tommy shifted uneasily; he took a deep breath before he stepped out of the car. He leaned against the side of the car for a while. Diaz trotted down the stairs; he held his hand out warmly, "Ah Tommy good to see you again". Tommy smiled and shook his hand. He was deeply relieved that Sonny hadn't passed a message onto Diaz about his upcoming plans. Tommy slipped his free hand under his jacket and pulled out the handgun. "It was nice working for you, but Vice City is mine" he said dryly as he fired the gun into the center of Diaz's forehead. Diaz's face was set in a mixture of horror and anger as his head burst open spraying blood everywhere. Some of the gray of his brains splashed on to Tommy's shirt as well as the hair and clotted blood. Diaz's fat body folded unnaturally on the floor. Tommy dragged the heavy corpse into one of Diaz's garages and dumped it there. He rushed over to his car and grabbed the ak47 off the passenger seat. He crept up the steps knowing that some of Diaz's men would notice and fight the change.

Tommy dashed into the house, he shot a few passing guards as he started to make his way up the velvet carpeted main staircase. As he moved swiftly up the stairs another round of startled guards reared their angry heads. He fired his gun. A stream of bullets exploded from the gun and into their chests, knocking them back onto the wall. The bullets seemed to hold them their for a while before they all slipped to the floor leaving a sickening trail of blood on the light coloured wallpaper. Tommy reached the top of the staircase and looked around, everything had gone eerily quite. He crept into Diaz's office. He whistled in an amused tone, the office was huge and elegantly designed despite Diaz's taste. He pulled the dark red leather chair out from under the huge oak desk. He sat down, resting his feet on the desk and aiming his ak47 at the doorway. With his free hand he pulled a cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number quietly.

Rosenberg cursed as a shrill ringing noise echoed in his head. He hauled himself up and lazily answered the phone. "We've got the Diaz mansion" a familiar voice came out the phone. Rosenberg snapped awake, he couldn't believe it. "Really, that's" he was interrupted by the sound of gunfire as Tommy shot a lanky guard that had been foolish enough to stop in the doorway. There was silence again, for a moment Rosenberg thought Tommy had been shot. "Stay clear of the mansion for today, I believe we may have some unwanted guests" Tommy finally said coldly as he hung up. He held the phone for a minute, he dropped it on the desk deciding not to bother contacting Kat; Sonny would come of his own accord. News travels fast in gangster circles or at least that was the rumour.


	13. Prepare for a showdown

Kat received a call almost an hour later from a ranting and possibly drunk Rosenberg. However she didn't bother to listen to him. She had known that Tommy would of taken the mansion. She muttered goodbye into the phone as she hung up. Her mind was buzzing with a cocktail of adrenaline and booze. She approached her old apartment building carefully. The police had reopened the building and everyone returned to their usual habits. Kat seemed to dash into the building and slowly with deadly silence crept up the stairs. She could see her apartment at the end of the hall. The door had been shut but a circle of police tape blocked the door. Another police sticker had been stuck onto the door. She ducked under the tape and kicked the door open. It swung open freely revealing a blood splatter hall, complete with white outlines drawn over the floor. She observed it with some regret. Kat shrugged it off and turned her attention to the rest of her former apartment. The swords and daggers that had decorated her walls had been taken away for some reason. She sighed, missing them slightly but quickly returned to the reason she was here. She slipped into the bathroom; it looked exactly the same as she had left it. Kat knelt down on the cheap lino floor. She started to rip up the light coloured lino under the window. A few tacks flew out the floor, landing with a soft tinker behind her. The floorboards under the lino where old and rotten. She ripped a few of the boards up revealing a dark, dank storage hole. She pulled a small bag of clothes out of the space as well as a sports bag full of guns and ammo. Kat glanced around silently and slipped into her tight black cat suit. She grabbed a thick leather belt and clipped it around her waist. She then strapped a small handgun around her thigh and hung a dozen clips on her belt. Finally she grabbed a sniper riffle and hung it over her shoulder. Kat picked up her balaclava and wondered if she needed it anymore. She shrugged and pushed it under her belt before she quickly shut the floorboards and put the lino back. She turned to leave the apartment, she forced herself to concentrate, she was slacking off. So she piled her clothes in a plastic bag to take down to her car, and looked the room over one last time. She then turned and ran from her home, shutting the door tightly.

Kat fled down the stairs and dived into her car, leaving the scene before anyone noticed her presence. She parked the car several miles away and pulled out her cell phone. She idly dialed a number and raised it to her ear anxiously. Someone answered the phone at the other end.

"Vercetti's got the mansion" she said blandly before she hung up. Her stomach lurched violently. She glanced at her watch; it would all kick off in an hour.

At the Escobar International airport a small private plane landed on the tarmac runway. It taxied off onto a quite piece of the airport. The door opened and two burly men in suits climbed out into the afternoon air. They waited patiently while a third man climbed out the plane. A pair of sunglasses hid his eyes; he was dressed in a dark navy blue suit, which seemed to give him an air of authority. He smiled for a second, today was going to be a good day, he knew it.

Tommy looked around the office. A small pile of dead guards lay at the door. He was growing impatient of waiting for something to happen. He looked at him imitation Rolex watch in a bored manner. The sound of a car engine forced Tommy to stand up and leave the comfort of his new office. A man stepped in, two guards stood at his side. The man took his sunglasses off and pushed them into the pocket of his navy suit.

"Hey, Tommy" he called out happily as his eyes set upon Tommy Vercetti. Tommy however seemed less than pleased. "Sonny" he replied the gun not leaving one of his firm hands. Sonny frowned, a little anger seeping through his cool exterior. "Is this how you greet old friends, Tommy" he asked looking at the gun carefully. Tommy scowled bitterly, "That's why you sent someone to kill me?" Sonny laughed coldly, something on the balcony caught his eye. It appeared like nothing more than a shadow but Sonny knew better. He shook his head, "Drop the gun Vercetti" He said threatening. Tommy dropped the gun to the ground obediently. The pair of them stood facing each other, like a western stand off. The two grunts next to Sonny pulled out pistol each and aimed it at Tommy's head. Sonny paused impatiently as if waiting for something or someone. He seemed extraordinary agitated. "Shoot him" he growled angrily. As the grunts tightened their grips on the trigger, the bang of two shots echoed through the air. The two muscled men jerked back suddenly as if they had received invisible punches to the head. Blood splattered across the marble floor as the two unsuspecting guards dropped to the ground. The remains of their skulls bounced once before they shattered leaving shards of blood stained bone over the floor. Handfuls of blood clotted hair stuck to the floor in a sickening mess.

Sonny had ducked the second that he had seen his men thrown back by an unforeseeable force. His hands where crossed above his head acting like a shield. Tommy had also flinched but managed to regain a calm exterior after he realized that the shots had not been aimed at him. Sonny moved his hands away from his head and glanced around. He pulled a handgun from a holster under his expensive jacket. Tommy did the exact same almost in unison. They stood facing each other furiously, both with guns aimed at each other chests.

"Drop the guns, Both of you!" a cold harsh voice threatened. Both men seemed to recognize the voice but dropped their weapons obediently. They looked around the room silently.

Kat stepped in front of a large window, casting a huge shadow over Sonny Forelli and Tommy Vercetti. A sniper riffle rested in her tense arms, her finger wrapped tightly around the trigger. Tommy looked up at her for a moment he could only see the curved silhouette. Kat moved the gun swiftly between the two, making sure that neither of them dared to move. Sonny coughed, clearing his throat importantly. He looked up at Kat calmly.

"Ah, Miss Saunders I have your money ready. $500 thousand as we agreed. Its in the car outside" he said in a polite yet somehow smug tone. She aimed the gun at Tommy's head for a moment before she turned the gun back to Sonny. Her face was cold and emotionless, "That amount of money is hardly going to save your life now" she said bitterly. Tommy didn't move, something didn't feel right. Sonny twitched, "You back stabbing bitch" he spat. Kat only smirked and adjusted her aim for a clean hit. Sonny seemed a little alarmed, "ok ok, err two million and that's my best offer". Kat seemed to consider this for a moment. She swiftly moved the gun and aimed at Tommy. He looked up at her, his eyes showed disappointment for a split second before it was replaced with hatred. Kat shook her head slowly, "Business is business" she said a tinge of remorse crept into her voice. She took aim and fired a single shot, there was a thud as it hit its mark ringed in her ears. It was followed by silence and nothing more.


	14. Aftermath

Kat closed her eyes. She sighed happily, a smile spreading across her face. Her wet hair hung over her bare shoulders. She slipped back, letting the warm bubbling water tickle her ribs.

It had only been a month since the shooting but things were forever getting better. Kat was enjoying her new lifestyle, where she had no money trouble or fear of other gangs. She relaxed in her silky black bikini savoring the warmth of the Jacuzzi. A pair of firm hands wrapped around her neck and stayed there for a moment. Then the pair of hands slipped back across her soft skin leaving a trail of gold. The hands stopped at the back of her neck. Kat brought her hand up to her neck and felt a diamond studded Celtic cross. She smiled and leaned her head back. A pair of dark brown eyes met hers, "Just a small token of my approbation" the soothing and familiar voice whispered. Kat turned around and faced him; "You didn't have to do that" she beamed. Tommy took her under the chin and kissed her warmly. For a while the world seemed perfect.

The End


End file.
